I have nothing else to blog about other than driving to work/work/going home from work. Am not happening at all la. Which also explains why I don’t update this blog very often. Well, actually it’s because I believe in quality over quantity. And before you start getting all sensitive and invite me to a high-school debate on what exactly is deemed by quality, its my own quality control.

I cannot be one of those to constantly blog about how my niece had her first fart, or how my kolok mee damn freaking ons super power gila babi and then make acronyms for my swears. I also cannot be one of those to edit my pictures to look super chun can die can? I just can’t. Mostly because I don’t have a niece, my local food isn’t kolok mee, and if I do edit pictures to look super chun can die can I might just be pushing the lines a little bit.

But yeah, I digress.

A Sultan visited my office area today. A state ruler, head and authoritative figure of one of the few segregated pieces of land that make up this country. I don’t know what he’s here for, but judging by the obscene amount of traffic police and patrol cars gathered around the medical-centre-and-got-expensive-yet-not-nice-food-building near my office, he’s sick. Don’t know la whether it’s a broken bone, or goat flu, I don’t care. My beef is that because of the obscene amount of traffic police and patrol cars, I can’t park illegally.

Now, now, law-abiding citizens of Malaysia (no oxymoron intended). I know that it’s not right of me to park illegally by the side of the road. I too, know that many of you have complained or have asked your frail grandmothers who have friends within the Press to highlight your insignificant letter about how the illegal parking scene in Jalan Dungun, Damansara Heights, is MASSIVE wakawakawakakeeechugchugwakaweowDJ LETHAL,BRING IT ON!wkakakwakwakwkaw.

BUT, have you or have you not seen the prices that these car-park areas are charging? I won’t go into details, but trust me when I say that parking your car would cost you a quarter of what it would take to solve world poverty issues. Per hour.

And even then, spoiled HELP students congest the parking. So how are we expected to park in car-parks when at the end of the day, we won’t even have enough money to pay for the petrol so we can actually leave the car-park itself? Think about that before you complain next time. Just because you have the time to send your child to college and give him his kissy-poos before he/she goes to class, doesn’t mean everyone else does too.

Oh and by the way, blogging’s very stressful. Especially when you’re a lacklustre writer who pulls ideas out of his ass.